


Eating with Strangers

by LittleMissSweetgrass



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Racism, Red Harvest POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissSweetgrass/pseuds/LittleMissSweetgrass
Summary: "“The reason why white men spew such disgusting things from their mouths, is that they only put shit in it!”His family had laughed, he remembered how his father had almost spilt his stew from his shaking, but Red Harvest didn’t understand.Now, though, he thinks he gets it."___Red Harvest finally has a meal with his travel companions and it leaves much to be desired





	Eating with Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic for this fandom, and im not much of a writer so please excuse any stilted language, i'm practicing and would appreciate any pointers if you wanna leave them!  
> This work is un-edited.

When Red Harvest was little, one of his cousins had said something that he never really got until now. Leaping Hare had come back from the trading post with her husband, both of them were gone for two weeks and Red remembered being excited to see what treasures were brought back. That night while the family sat around the cooking fire and eating the shared stew, Leaping Hare had groaned in pleasure as she stuffed her face, “Great Spirit, have I missed actual food! The reason why white men spew such disgusting things from their mouths, is that they only put shit in it!” 

His family had laughed, he remembered how his father had almost spilt his stew from his shaking, but Red didn’t understand. He had never seen a white person before, only heard these horror stories about the pale savage men who slaughtered and took everything in their wake, so the joke had gone right over his young head.

Now, though, he understood. 

“White people’s food is not even fit for dogs.” He sneered in his mother tongue, dropping the plate onto the table in disgust, hoping that the distance would erase the smell from his nose. Red Harvest had been travelling with these white men for a while, and it wasn't until now that he had agreed to dine with them, preferring to eat the dried deer meat and the dried fruits and vegetables he had stashed away in his pouches. But the reserves were running low, and unless he wanted to go scavenging again, he had to eat with the white men. But now he wished he had chosen the former option. 

The large bear of a man had questioned him, demanding in his wispy voice to know what he had said. Red stared back coldly at the man, this murder who had killed so many of his people and saw him no better than a mongrel, and felt his nails start to cut into his palms when Sam had cut in. The boy had missed what was said, but it threw the men around the table into roaring laughter and the moment had passed.

Red looked back down to the slop called food and unclenched his fist, his quest for revenge wasn't with this dirty mountain man. He had to save his rage for Denali, the snake who slithered in the shadow of the white man called Bouge. 

Listening to the voice in his head that sounded a lot like his mother, he closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. When he opened them, his unappetizing dinner stared back at him. 

The beans were covered in a thick, sickly sweet sauce, and the pig innards were unseasoned and swimming in a film of liquid fat. To the other side of the plate there was a thick, lumpy stone of yellow bread and a few cut yams, plain and mushy. When the plates were set down at the table, the men around him cheered as if they were being served the best cut of deer, seasoned with sage and served with the ripest greens- not this sloppy, harsh smelling meal that looked like it was thrown up by cattle. Red’s nose had begun to crinkle back into disgust the longer he stared at the plate, but his stomach was crying after the long day of being empty and he knew he had to eat.

Not even knowing where to begin, Red carefully looked around the table to look at the other men to copy what they did. Most of them were leaning over the table, shovelling whatever they could into their mouths, yelling and boasting and nudging each other like a pack of playful dogs. The only ones not hanging over their food was Sam and the old bearded man who never stopped spewing words out of his mouth like a bird singing to the morning sun. Sam was currently talking with the tall bearded man, nursing a drink while the other leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the back of his companion’s seat.

Red was about to continue to look around, but froze when he realized that the silent man’s eyes were trained on him. Black piercing into brown, Red sat there slightly put off and feeling judged as the man continued to eat while gazing at him. Then, after a moment, the older man swallowed, and still keeping eye contact with Red, tore out another chunk of his bread, slowly scooped some of the mess of beans onto his fork. He then brought both pieces towards his mouth. However, instead of opening his mouth to continue eating he paused, fork and bread stilled in the air. Very briefly, his black eyes flickered towards Red’s own plate of untouched food, then moved back to the younger’s stare with a raised eyebrow. 

Not understanding for a split second, Red then realized what was happening and he swiftly moved to grab his own fork and chunk of bread in a mimic of the older man. He raised his eyes back up to met his travel companion’s and saw a look of amusement in his eyes, before he popped the bread into his mouth and then the beans. The young warrior was hesitant to follow the unsaid instructions, as the stale and revolting smell of the bean slop was closer to his nose, but with a look of determined disgust, he popped the bread into his mouth and then hastily shoved the beans in right after. 

Red regretted it almost immediately; the beans were slimly, smokey and way too sweet and the bread was strangely gritty with the taste of corn. It was too greasy and after a quick couple of chews he swallowed, hating the lingering aftertaste and the way the food slid down his throat. Pushing down the urge to vomit, Red gave an almost non-noticeable shudder and raised his gaze to meet the silent man’s again. 

There was a small look of pity mixed in with amusement in those eyes, even if the rest of his face was stoic, not showing anything. But his eyes flickered back down to Red’s plate and to his face again- silent prompting to continue eating. With a slight slump of his shoulders, Red gave into the silent command and continued to eat, ripping small pieces of bread to pair with the beans. 

After a few more attempts, he found that the bread was good at absorbing the bean sauce, and the grittiness of it almost like it was scrubbing the aftertaste of slime out of his mouth. Then if he mashed the yams with his fork, though bland, they did counter well with the sweetness of the bean sauce, toning it down so it felt like he wasn't eating straight sap. After a few minutes of forcing his meal down and letting the sounds of rowdy boisterous English wash over him, Red soon found that he managed to eat the entire plate, and while he felt gross, he was full. 

He cast his eyes upwards back to the other man. The man was done his meal, leaning back into arm of his companion, smoking a thin cigarette. He caught the younger’s eyes, and after a couple of seconds of figuring out the nonverbal thanks, he gave a slight nod and reached over to the bearded man’s plate. Snatching a piece of the forgotten bread, as the bearded man warbled some strange song which was sending his drunk travelling partners into baying howls, he popped the bread into his mouth, leaning back into a comfortable position against his friend and tilted his head back, chewing contemplatively. He drew the cigarette to his thin lips again, then tilted his head back and blew the smoke up into the air above the table. 

Red took a deep breath in, and almost wrinkled his nose is disgust again. Lingering over the stench of unwashed bodies, burning and greasy food, and the sharp smell of booze he could smell a scent of home, of tobacco but tainted with something foreign. He eyed the thin cigarette, and pursed his lips, watching as the coal haired man offered the cigarette to his bearded companion. Red looked away, not wanting to watch the men misuse a sacred medicine any longer, and tried to observe the rest of his companions. He saw Sam flicker his eyes towards him and offered a small apologetic smile before looking away to comment on something the younger white man spoke of.

The young Native man slumped in his chair, feeling lonely and missing his home and family, even surrounded by all the bustle of companionship. He wanted to go home, to see his mother and father, to be surrounded by people who didn't look at him with fear or contempt with in their eyes. To go home and eat _real_ food. He was so close to revenge, he just had to wait a couple more days for this Bouge to show up and then he can skin that snake for all the pain he caused his family. For ruining his cousin’s happy life, for taking what didn't belong to him and killing her. 

The loud white man spoke up, snapping Red Harvest out of his brooding thoughts. “He’s thinking awfully hard for a savage, are ya sure he's not plannin’ on the best way to gut us in our sleep, Sam?” The young man was clearly drunk, leaning heavily with his elbows on the table and pointedly looking directly at Red. The boy clenched his teeth to refrain from sniping back, especially when that mongrel of a man chimed in with how it was never smart to trust a savage. 

Sam held his hands up in a calming gesture, “Now gents-“ but Red cut him off as he stood.

“It’s late Sam, and I’m clearly not wanted here. I’ll go get some sleep and see you in the morning.” He muttered in his native tongue, still not really wanting the other to realize he spoke their language. With that Red picked up his dish, not really knowing what to do with it but decided he should well enough give it back to the lady who placed it in front of him. 

The dark skinned man frowned, “If you're sure, son. I’ll see you in the morning.” The older man’s words were a little slow, and accented heavily with English pronunciations, but it was nice that he was still trying to communicate with Red in that personal way shared languages always had. 

With a nod towards Sam, and to the kindly silent man, he walked to the bar with a pocket of silence following him as men hushed conversations and watched him warily as he neared. Placing the plate down with a quite “Thank you for the meal” in English towards the waitress he turned and tried not to run out of the saloon, tired of the pointed gazes and accusatory whispers that followed. 

Once he passed through the doors the night air hit his face like a wall; clean, cold and crisp. Red took in a deep breath and felt all the tension leave his body. Tomorrow would be better; one day closer to getting his revenge, and one day closer until he could head home. 

With these thoughts in his head, he turned to go find his horse on the outskirts of this town, ready to settle down for the night. Maybe in the morning he would wake up early enough to get a quick forage in, maybe find some decent food to repay the dark haired man with for helping him navigate the white man’s food.

**Author's Note:**

> So as an Anishinaabekwe, i kinda felt put out when Red Harvest didnt have that much of a role in the movie, or any sort of fan base. So i decided if I wanna read more Red Harvest central fics i guess I'm gonna have to write them :\ I dont know that much about the nation he's supposed to be, but since my home boy speaks Anishinaabemowin, its my head canon that through some weird circumstances that he has family from up north and knows Anishinaabe ways, maybe hes mixed?  
> So if youre seeing something odd like "wait a second, his people dont call Creator 'Great Spirit'!! BOO WHAT IS SHE DOING??" im just using stuff I know from my teachings, and since i dont feel super comfortable writing about an Aboriginal character of a different nation than my own, because i know like nothing about their culture or history, im gonna keep doing this, sorry im too lazy for research :(  
> Anyway! I hoped you liked this story! please feel free to leave any comments if you see anything weird that I need to fix or just to leave kind words :)


End file.
